


By the Book

by marchionessofblackadder



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, OUAT Secret Valentine, Romance, Snowing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchionessofblackadder/pseuds/marchionessofblackadder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Valentine's Day, Snow White and Prince Charming decide to stay in. Unfortunately, Charming's attempt at a romantic gesture doesn't have the initial desired effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Book

**Author's Note:**

> For Lacey, my Secret Valentine. I hope you enjoy it, dearie!

“And Belle told you this was a good idea?” Snow asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow as she swirled a gracious wine glass in her left hand, drawing her fingers of her right over the cover of the book balanced on her leg. It was leatherbound and extremely old with gold lettering across the front, and while she wasn’t entirely familiar with the story, the title didn’t reassure her of helping them have what was supposed to be a romantic evening.  
  
David’s original idea for their first official Valentine’s Day was to have a picnic by the river where she’d rescued him. However, since their run with Valentine’s Day arrangements didn’t have the best record, he’d opted to spread a blanket out on the floor of Snow’s apartment in the quiet warmth of four safe walls. She couldn’t deny that it was a bit of a relief not to worry about anyone else, having some time alone with her husband. With Emma and Henry gone off to New York with Rumpelstiltskin, it would feel wrong to try to celebrate anything, anyways.  
  
“I was lucky to catch her the morning before everything went to hell,” David muttered, dropping down in jeans, socks, and a loose t-shirt. Snow smiled slightly at seeing him so relaxed for a change. His gun holster hung up, his boots put away, the lines too old for his youthful face relaxed for a little while-it was nice to see her husband giving up the worries of the world, even for one evening. “Anyway, she said it was something we’d enjoy.”  
  
Snow chuckled, setting her wine glass down as she opened the book, shaking her head. “I don’t know how,” she said wryly. “It’s our tale, I suppose, but it’s not the way we remember it.”  
  
David rolled onto his side as he lay in the floor, shifting until his head was on his wife’s thigh beside the book. “Oh yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Snow muttered, turning the pages as her eyebrows began to furrow. “In this one, I run off with Lancelot...”  
  
“Well, that’s true.”  
  
“It is not!” Snow laughed, slapping his arm playfully and sticking out her tongue. “Not like _that_.”  
  
“Fine, read some then,” James said with a smile, turning onto his back and closing his eyes. He threaded his fingers together across his stomach, perfectly at ease.  
  
Fondly, Snow shifted the book until it was in her right hand, her left beginning to toy with her husband’s hair, a king in his own right complacent enough to rest in her lap. Reading aloud the tale of _Morte d’Arthur_ , Snow’s brow lowered further, deepened, and wrinkled until she was frowning as she read the words. The story of her, though it was told differently, _White Shadow_ they called her in this story. When it ended with Guinevere and Lancelot together, Snow promptly shut the book and tossed it across the floor with a loud slap against the hardwood, causing David to flinch.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking up at her from her lap.  
  
“That book! It’s ridiculous,” Snow said, frowning hard and crossing her arms. “ _None_ of it happened that way.”  
  
“Didn’t it?” As he rubbed his eyes, Snow narrowed her gaze at him.  
  
“You were asleep, weren’t you.”  
  
Hesitating, David smiled sheepishly, “Well you have such a nice voice.”  
  
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Snow murmured, her eyebrows furrowing as she leaned over his face, careful to not knock her wine glass over. “Doesn’t it bother you that so many people think they know our story and they turn it into something it’s not?”  
  
“Not really.” David gave a shrug, smiling wryly at his wife’s growing annoyance with him before catching her hand in his, swaying it back and forth. “Who cares what people think of us, Snow? It’s not stopped us before. It doesn’t make what I feel for you any less true. It doesn’t change what really happened. As long as we know it, it doesn’t mean anything. They’re just words on a page.”  
  
Snow stared at him for a long moment before suddenly shifting, sitting up and pushing him over the blanket and sliding up beside him to fit under his arm, pillowing her head on his chest as he brought his arm around her waist, warm and secure as he used to hold her through her nightmares. With all the years she spent with tutors, with teachers and governesses and mentors, her David, her kind hearted, crowned shepherd boy was still teaching her the most important things.  
  
“Though I have to say, I don’t know why Belle would give me that if it would only make you so upset,” David muttered, his voice slurring in his drowsiness, holding his wife close to his side.  
  
Drawing patterns on his shirt, Snow White smiled, pressing her cheek to his heart. A clever trick, to be sure, the little librarian set, and one that had effectively gotten her into her husband’s arms.  
  
Shrugging one shoulder, Snow turned her head to watch as her husband fell asleep. “No idea.”


End file.
